Hay Fever
by Forget-Me-Not Writing
Summary: Remember the guard who informed the king and queen that the Lost Princess had returned? Do you recall further that the same guard was the one who watched the Stabbington Brothers in the Snuggly Duckling? Now think back to when we first met him as the one guarding Rapunzel's crown and had hay fever. Remember him? This is his story.
1. The Miracle is Stolen

**Author's Note:** Hello! Thank you so very much for clicking on this fanfiction! I have spent an absurd amount of time watching Disney's "Tangled" and have picked up on a few details, so I decided to expand upon them! Watch the tale again (with subtitles) and you'll catch Conli's name in the Snuggly Duckling. Research the voice actors' of the guards and you'll see why I chose the names I did. I hope you enjoy this!

Also, I do **not** own Tangled in any way, shape, or form. The idea and some characters are of my own creation, but based off of the people shown in Tangled. The cover image rights belong to its respective owner(s) as well.

* * *

I was eight when the queen got sick, very sick.

Two days later, on my ninth birthday, my brother was called to the expedition in search of the Miracle for the queen.

And it was another two days after my non-celebratory day when shouts of "We found it!" rang throughout the kingdom of Corona. I raced outside of the stables I was working in to see the commotion. To my highest degree of honorable pride, I saw _my_ brother leading the pack of weary soldiers and sweaty horses with the golden flower in his capable hands.

He always told me to steer clear of the coming and goings of the soldiers; I might get trampled since I was so small, so I carefully crept behind the near-parade of soldiers to the castle. The crowd stifled me, but I managed to stand on some barrels near a fruit stand to get a better view of my brother passing the flower to some royal official who was nearly sprinting down the steps of the palace's balcony.

The look of sheer gratitude and relief in the receiver's face was ingrained into my memory. It was then I knew I wanted nothing more than to be a soldier like my brother, but also to simply be my brother. He was so strong and sure; my constant of my childhood.

When my brother was finally released from the embrace upon giving the flower to the regally dressed man, his eyes scanned the crowd and immediately found me. I expected a chastising scowl, but a grin filled his worn face. He earned the rest of the day off and took me to our home. There, around a feast of bread, cheese, and meat, he gave me all the details of the adventure in finding the magic golden flower, the Miracle.

"Who found the magic golden flower, Nathan?" I asked, sure my eyes were as bright as the sun on the armor in the kingdom.

"Uh, well," he coughed and I saw a blush creeping over his face. "Me."

"You found it?!" My brother was the hero?

"Yeah, me and Gainey, we found it together," Nathan explained with a humble smile. My awe over my big brother never ceased.

"You're going to be Captain of the Guards someday, Nathan," I declared. He chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe so, Conli," he laughed again, tousling my hair, "maybe so."

"Who was that who you gave the flower to?"

"That was the king," Nathan stated. "Something as important as that, he wanted to transport to his wife personally."

My jaw fell agape.

"Now you're really going to be the Captain of the Guards!" Nathan just laughed.

Hours carried on like this: me begging Nathan for every detail and him obliging to my ridiculously adoring requests. Finally, after I heard his tale a good four times, we settled in the overstuffed chair posed in the comfy corner and read our favorite book together until the wee hours of the morn.

I woke up the next day to Nathan whistling as he scrambled a batch of eggs. He told me he had the day off and Gainey, his best friend and fellow guardsman, did too. The three of us spent the entire day together. Moments of lounging on the rickety back deck, chewing straw, and tossing rotten apples to one another filled the day.

Near the afternoon, shouts of praise reached our ears. The queen was well again and had given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl named Rapunzel. That night, the king and queen sent off a floating lantern to show their gratitude for their daughter. I sat on Nathan's shoulders pointing and exclaiming to it for nearly an hour before I slumped over his head in sleepy defeat.

I awoke to jostling sometime between the market and our house in Nathan's arms with Gainey talking to him about returning to their stations tomorrow. But I didn't have to focus on Nathan leaving so soon, he would be Captain of the Guards and stay in town to train troops rather than leave.

And for just a moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

I woke again, but in my bed this time, and with the morning rays streaming through my dirty window. I bounded down the shaky ladder; barely registering I didn't smell breakfast. I stopped my happy skips when I saw Nathan slumped at the small kitchen table, an important looking letter resting between the same capable hands that tousle my hair and carry miracles.

"N-Nathan?" I hesitantly ask him. My question seems to shake him out of his daze. He rubs his hands over his face as if to wipe away the sleeplessness I knew would mark him. "What'cha got there?"

"Um, well, Conli, something happened last night."

What he had to tell me rattled me so much, I sprinted from our crumbling-in-more-ways-than-one home, and dashed for the town stables.

Nathan set me up with a job scrubbing stalls, shoveling hay (which makes me sneeze), and brushing the horses. It didn't pay much, was a lot of work, but it kept me busy. And it let me bond with the horses. My favorite was Sunlight. She was a beautiful white mare. Gainey always made fun of the names I unofficially gave the horses.

_"Well, then, what's a good name for a horse?" I griped at Gainey as he -once again- mocked Sunlight's magnificent name when he and Nathan came to visit me on their town rounds about a year ago. _

_"Hmmm," he pondered dramatically. "If I ever get my own horse with the Royal Guards, I'll have to name my steed something stoic and majestic like... Titan." _

_"Titan?" Nathan scoffed slightly._

_"Lame," I agreed. _

_"What title would you bestow your steed, then, oh good future Captain?" Gainey embellished with a good-natured grin. Nathan jokingly shoved Gainey's shoulder at his foreshadowing to Nathan's dream job. _

_"Hmmm," Nathan mimicked. "A name for the horse I'd ride when we're promoted to the Royal Guard Calvary that's stoic and majestic, eh? I think I'd go with... Maximus."_

Many, many other fond memories spent with the horses and Nathan and Gainey were formed at the stables.

Once I finally arrived to my haven, I plopped on the ground beside Sunlight's stall and cried.

I cried because there's absolutely nothing I can do to help this world or my big brother. I cried that it was unfair for Nathan to have to work so hard. I cried because I didn't want him to leave again. And I cried for the reason why he had to go; Nathan told me that the castle had a break-in last night, and the intruder stole the princess. The guards tried their hardest to catch the thief, but failed for the thief was quick as night. But the snatcher didn't completely escape unscathed; the Captain blocked the thief's escape of Corona. The Captain was able to follow the thief a bit into the forest before the thief jabbed the Captain with a dagger.

He died just a few hours ago.

I cried because of how much the Captain meant to Nathan, and would have meant to me when I enlisted as a royal guard.

And I finally cried because of recently shown bravery and consistent dedication to the kingdom, Nathan was promoted to be the new Captain of the Guard. At first, I shouted for joy at his job, but then shrieked in horror when he said that he must leave for the woods to find his Captain's murderer.

_I must avenge the Captain who raised me like a son, and return the royal child so she'll never have to grow up without a father like we had to,_ he had said.

It was then when I ran to the well. He was leaving me. Again. He was leaving me, again, and for what? A man who wasn't our dad and for a baby.

Eventually, I returned home and we ate lunch in silence.

Gainey came by shortly after, only stopping by to get Nathan so they could join the search in the woods for the princess and thief/murderer.

"Hey, everything'll be okay, Conli," Nathan reassured as I stood on the uneven doorstep; him on his horse, I barefoot and feeling lower than dirt to not be helping him. "I have to do this. Please understand." I sniffed and focused my eyes on my toes. "I'll be home in a few days, do your studies and continue working at the stables."

"But you know how the hay makes me sneeze," my first words to him since he told me the news he was leaving.

"Just don't catch a fever, then, 'kay? And work hard so you'll rank out of the stables and into the guard with Gainey and I," Nathan said in such confidence I nearly doubted his belief in me. Nearly.

When I couldn't hear their trotting horses, I finally glanced up at their retreating figures way in the distance near the woods where I play with other kids. Then, an idea struck me. Every day, Nathan and Gainey are in the palace, or at the training field, or in battle, but _I'm_ the one who explores the town and woods. I know the first few miles like the back of my hand. I could easily help them find the person who took the baby and killed Nathan's friend. Then, Nathan won't have to leave me ever again and we can be together as he promised.

My idea was brilliant, and I wanted to start soon, so I was dashing down the cobblestones and halfway over the bridge before I realized I still had no shoes on my feet. But on I ran.


	2. When Capable Hands Quiver

**Author's Note:** You're awesome for clicking "next" and venturing onto the second chapter. You go. :)

**CHARACTER DEATH** I don't think I was graphic or intense in the scenes of the death, but it does get sad, obviously. I rated this K+ assuming since Disney showed death and (minor) blood, it'd be okay to pen about. Fair warning.

* * *

"AHHH!"

The claws of a harsh contraption locked around my flesh.

Loud, abrupt breaths between shaky sobs and attempting to stand without blacking out were all I could manage after two hopeless hours in the forest. I lost trail of my brother long ago, and I was positive I was no closer to finding the princess than any of the other guards searching for the royal or the kidnapper-turned-murderer. I wanted to be clever, so I went through the classic "If I were a thief, where would I hide?" process, causing me to wonder which path a thief would take? No path, of course.

Thus, I had wandered away from the vague dirt markings and into the thickness of the forest overgrowth when something sharp and metal pierced my left leg. I tried to cover my screams with my chapped hand, but my tears made the seal slippery. Every intake of air was torture as it felt a pulse reigned near the teeth slicing into my skin.

Footsteps were nearing my area and bushes began to shake with the movement of something not small. My breath hitched. Bears wouldn't wander the woods this near the town, would they? Although I have been straying far from civilization… My heartbeat was thrusting my head to near explosion. I needed air; I dared a quiver that unintentionally rattled the metal claws.

"Conli?" the disbelief was evident in the intruder's voice.

"Nathan!" I exclaimed in utter relief that the intruder was my brother rather than a bear. The turning to face him made me quickly winced at the sudden move of trying to face him.

"What are you doing here?" Nathan asked as he dismounted his horse.

"Helping you," I managed before a sob choked me. He glanced down and noticed the trap encircling my leg.

"Oh, no," breathed Nathan in horror. "We have to release that trap before it breaks your bones!"

"I believe it," quipped I under my breath. Nathan ignored my attitude –silently reminding me that I was in no place to be snarky.

"What's going on over here?" Gainey's voice sounded nearby; his person not visible, but he soon burst through the bushes. The foliage and setting sun creating an orange haze, made it hard for me to distinguish how Gainey was interpreting the situation he entered. "Nathan," Gainey barked, "get away from there! This is hunting ground, traps are everywhere!" Then, Gainey assessed the whole scene… and saw me. "Conli?"

I shamefully lowered my gaze to the grass.

Silently, Gainey moved to assist Nathan with the trap that they had assessed was –thankfully- poorly made with weak hinges for loose snapping and rounded teeth as opposed to harsh angles.

As they worked on freeing me, I asked if they had any leads, they both simply looked at each other. Nathan mumbled a _yeah_, and I swore Gainey muttered "but we lost it due to your screams." If possible, more shame sated my heart.

"I… I just wanted to help," my defense weak and quiet. Nathan didn't comment, meaning that he was disappointed in the way I chose to "help".

Finally, the trap was sprung open and my leg was throbbing, but free. Their evaluation of the trap unattached to my leg confirmed their suspicions of the trap being painful, but not as endangering as we all had first anticipated. But the teeth –though not as rough as some could be- did gash me enough for stitches and a physician's examination to be required.

Nathan sent Gainey to go tell the other soldiers he and Nathan had to take me home. Nathan carried me to his horse, insisting his search ceases until I get medical help. Medical help I know we can't afford.

"No, I can help!" I say. "I'm fine, see?" I leap from the horse's saddle on the opposite side of Nathan so he couldn't stop my descent.

"Hey, careful, Conli, the cliff is nea-" but my bare feet and weak leg slipping from the mud cut off Nathan's words. "Conli!" He plunged for me as I stumbled down the steep slope. "Grab something, you fool!" He shouted in desperation.

My brain finally clicked that I was in danger. I slapped my hand against everything, anything, and then something: a branch from a tree growing on the edge of the cliff. The smallest of ledges protruded from the rough dirt, aiding in the desperate attempt to stay on the cliff itself and not resting at its base. I was still ten feet from the top, but that's much better than two hundred feet smooshed at the bottom.

"I'm coming to get you, Conli," Nathan said as he began to secure a rope around a tree growing on the cliff's sharp edge.

"No," I utter in sheer stubbornness. "I can climb."

"Not with that injury," Nathan realistically pointed out as he expertly weaved tight knots in the rope from the tree to himself. His words flowed in my head as I pondered the last few moments. The sudden halt drew my attention from gripping the lifeline to my sore leg. Jumping was not a bright idea of mine. "Hang on!"

"That goes without saying!" I retorted though I know now was not the time to be snappy.

Suddenly and silently, a dark figure engulfed in hints of a deep scarlet fabric beneath the thick, dark cape appeared near Nathan; he was preoccupied with snugly wrapping the rope around his waist. Before I can scream a warning to him about the haunting figure, a dagger came out of nowhere. The unsheathing of the weapon alerted Nathan's trained soldier ears. I could practically read his mind by his stance: get to the sword and defend yourself!

His action of reaching for the sword was clearly noted by the attacker. The dark figure took advantage of Nathan tittering on the wet grass of the slope and they shoved his feet to cause him to stumble closer to the edge. The figure snatched Nathan's glove, jabbed the dagger in the chink of his Corona armor. Finally, I find my voice and wallow from my deepest of screams to unleash a yell as the figure unclenched its fist from his wrist –allowing him to tumble down the cliff.

"NO!" I thundered as Nathan's body fell ragdoll-like in slow motion. I stretched to reach the rope -his lifeline- that was still attached to the above tree. I glanced to see the cloak disappearing with the murderer. One issue resolved, now to focus on my brother dangling beside me on the small ledge on the steep cliff.

Nathan's wheezing was proof he was still alive, but the evidence wasn't very reassuring as he barely gripped my wrist and a few stray roots to stay on the cliff's edge we perched upon with shaky stances.

A sob escaped me as his sky blue eyes –matching my own orbs- flutter insistently; it looked like it was a struggled to even blink, let alone climb back up to the top of the cliff.

"Nathan? Conli?" Gainey asked confused at our disappearance. He must have heard my screams.

"Down here," I mumbled, clinging to Nathan and the thinning roots on the minute ledge. Gainey's face appeared over the edge and all the color drained from his face.

"Oh, no," he breathed. "What happened?"

Tears blurred my sight from properly seeing him at this distance, so instead, I focused on Nathan: his face smooth other than some scratches from branches. Skin beginning to tan with his days spent in the sun as summer rapidly approaches. My hand upon his sleeve was pale in comparison. It always gave me hope of how much we look alike. Neighbor kids always teased me saying I'd never escape Nathan's shadow of excellence and that I'd never live up to what my parents believed I could be. Odd, at that moment –dangling from an incline with my brother struggling to hang on to the cliff and life itself- I had the epiphany that that's why I want to help so much. Do I secretly want to stray from my brother's path? Be my own person?

"Conli," he mustered. His gasp brought me back to the present as I zeroed in on his face to grab every single word he uttered. I saw his capable hands worm to the rope around his waist and begin to undo the knot.

"Nathan, what are d-"

"Conli," he interrupted with complete disregard to my surprise at him untying his lifeline. "Listen... listen to me: be better than this."

"This?" I question.

"A crumbling home. Never being home for the ones you should be there for. Be better than a wandering soldier."

"What should I be then?" I dumbly stared at him as he slung the rope feebly around me.

"A soldier with a purpose," Nathan's voice sounded sturdier than it had moments prior. Hope stupidly rose in my chest. "Avenge them: the Captain, the royals, our parents, and me, but avenge in honor."

"How do I do that? Give justice but allow the one who kills a chance to live?"

"Serve them, the royals," Nathan grunted –voice losing any determination he had once he securely tugged the knot on the rope engulfing my waist. "Serve your kingdom, in honor, respect, duty, and with loyalty. Be the best version of you there is. You living honorably will be more torture to the one who sought to destroy your happiness than any damage a knife could ever do."

"But I just want _you_, Nathan!"

"I know… and I could never give that to you, by always being gone… and I'm sorry for that. Be what I… couldn't be: _there_ for others. Be there… for the king and queen. Find… the princess; let her be with her family… even if… we couldn't of." Nathan's words were sluggish and spaced so far apart. "Be the soldier you always wanted to be."

"I wanted to be a soldier _with_ you," I cried.

"Now you can be a solider _for_ me," he muttered. "You can do it... You're brave… and strong, and smart… and you can be better than… a sneezing stable boy." His comment somehow managed a wobbly grin from me. "Soldier Conli, I like that," he smiled.

"I like Captain Nathan," I said hoping to see his smile at his title, but he was gone. His capable hands quivered as he exhaled for a final time. His grip on the roots and rope loosened with the lose of life. Anxiously, I scrambled to snatch his wrists before he tumbled. His weight forced me to crouch as he slipped further down the slope. "Nathan, Nathan, please stay," I uselessly begged. "Nathan. Nathan! Nathan! Nat-"

"Conli," I turned to Gainey's voice that was thick with emotion, but somehow still solid.

"I can't hold him," lamely I stated to the guardsman. He only grimly nodded. And to my everlasting shame, I released Nathan's capable hands, and then immediately turned towards the cliff so I wouldn't have to watch him tumble to the earth.

Gainey felt he should be apart of the crew to find Nathan's… body… at the cliff's base, so I was escorted home by a guard wearing the armor that was so familiar, but who's face I did not know. I cried myself to sleep that night, moped in our overstuffed chair of the corner, and clutched my favorite present Nathan's ever brought me from his numerous expeditions: our favorite novel. The worn cover was almost comforting.

Nathan earned a funeral fit for a captain; he and the former Captain of the Guards' funeral were just a day apart. Although, it felt much more unfair at Nathan's because the dates on his gravestone were too close together, personally.

Three times in my nine years have I watched strangers lower my loved ones into the ground on the island kingdom; twice I had my brother's capable hands guide me home so we could grieve at the lose of first Mum when I was five, and then Pop just eight months after her.

Walking home from this funeral that day took both a forever and a few seconds. A stranger was there at my house when I arrived.

"Connie Anderson?" he asked when I neared.

"Conli," I corrected in a quick tone, hopefully hinting to this fellow that I was not in the mood to buy whatever he was selling.

"I'm Bryon, a worker with the Royal Guard."

I stared blankly at him; this information meant nothing to me.

"I'm here to tell you that, well, for starters, I'm very sorry about Nathan. I've worked with him for a long while, and he was so capable of becoming so much more than a soldier who died before their time," Bryon comforted.

"Is there a point to this, sir? I really just want to go home."

"That is my point, Conli. This isn't your home," answered he.

"What do you mean?"

"The Royal Guard provides housing to their soldiers who live off-site of the barracks on the Royal Grounds."

"Then why have you guys never been around to help fix up this crumbling shack!" I angrily demanded.

"There are hundreds of guardsmen enlisted to the royals, Conli. We can't give mansions to them all. And your father, Guardsmen Maxwell Anderson, requested to take a small and humble abode," Bryon's voice would have been calming if he wasn't preoccupied with rattling my world.

"What do you mean?" I breathed in near fear.

"He wanted others to have better homes, at least, that's what he had always said when asked. And Nathan replied with the same when we asked to transfer his housing elsewhere." This brought tears to my eyes; my family was so honorable, and I now had to live up to that standard? "And," continued Bryon. "Meaning, I must evict you of this house for another guardsman use."

"Where will I live?"

"Arrangements have been made for you to reside at the Corona Orphanage until adoption," Bryon sadly answered.

"But…" this was not appealing in any way. Then an idea hit. "What if I live in the barracks?"

"Barracks and homes of the guard are reserved for guardsmen and their families. I'm sorry."

"What if I live with a guardsmen, like Gainey?" I suggested.

"The arrangements for you to live at the orphanage were made by Gainey."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Although it seems like I'm trying to frame Gainey for Nathan's death, I'm not, promise! I'm not giving any more hints, though, on who the thief-turned-stabber is. But I think you know.  
Thank you for reading! Please review! :)


	3. Part Ways as Unlikely Friends

**Author's Note:** Wow, thank you. No, truly, thank YOU for continuing on with this fanfic; it means a lot to me. :)

This chapter is the shortest so far, but it's cute (at least, I think so). I don' t know how often other fanfic authors update, but obviously, mine have been pretty frequent. I'll do my best to do at least a chapter a week, but I may post more if I whip it up fast enough, or it might be a smidge less if it gets busy with life. Thanks again for sticking with me! Happy reading, you beautiful reader! :)

* * *

At the orphanage, you officially "age out" of the system when you turn fifth teen; that was in six short, freighting months.

At the palace, you can officially apply for the Royal Guard also at age fifth teen; that was in six dreadfully long months.

My years at the orphanage weren't horrible, but never neared fantastic either. No one wanted to hear my problems or woes. Or even help me deal with my cumbersome guilt. Many weeks tended to blur together during those six years. I kept to myself and devoured books to help cope.

Books became my refuge since I wasn't allowed in the stables. Having a job isn't permitted if you reside in the orphanage. If you can provide the time for a job, then you can provide your own home and stop taking up valuable space at the orphanage. I've been told this many times.

Five and half months until I leave the wretched orphanage, the grumpy mistress dumped a squirrely kid at my feet.

"Teach 'im to read so he'll quit buggin' me," she grumbled. The kid perked up when I looked at him over the top of my novel I was currently engrossed by.

"I'm Eugene Fitzherbert," he offered. I replied that I was Conli and promptly returned to my book, but he wouldn't be shaken off that easily and replied with: "The lady said you'd teach me how to read."

"Uh, I guess," I mumbled, not making eye contact. "I don't know how to teach someone, though."

"That's okay," the kid piped. "We can learn together!" Nathan's voice was practically verbal in commanding me to be the better person and to help the kid out even if I was miserable.

"Fine," I muttered.

Five months until I joined the palace guards and the kid had really snapped up the knack of reading. He stuck to my side like tack, hanging on to every word I said: teaching him or just talking. I kind of liked him anyway.

"So what was your life like?" Eugene asked.

"Whoa, kid, slow down, I don't do backstories," I commented to him as we went through the dinner line.

"Oh," he seemed dejected. It hurt to see his light flick out so fast.

"But… I do… have an allergy," I lamely said to fill up the conversational space between us.

"Really?" this seemed to perk Eugene's interest, oddly. "What of?"

"Let's go to the stables after we eat," I suggested. True, I couldn't work in the guardsmen stables or even the town's livery, but the mistress of the orphanage does assign chores, and I volunteered for the stables. There were just two old and run down horses, but it was something familiar.

Moments of entering the stables, Eugene noticed my excessive sneezing and attempted to hide his grin. I rolled my eyes and ventured forward into my orphanage haven.

After I introduced him to Betsy and Jonas, the two loyal but aging animals of the stalls I faithfully muck, I then showed him the loft in the stables where I escaped the overcrowded orphanage. It became "our spot". Here was where I taught him how to read, and in return, we would venture to the few trees on the property and he showed me how to climb trees that had slick bark or no branches. The kid was a squirrel. I couldn't climb them near as fast as he could, obviously, with my leg still giving out occasionally, but I kept up with him enough.

Four months until I leave the overflowing home.

I waken one evening to Eugene crying from a nightmare. I don't know why, maybe because no one did it for me when I still had bad dreams about my brother when I first came to the orphanage, or maybe because I haven't had "brotherly" companionship in so long, but I slung my arm around his shoulder as a comforting gesture. This action had quieted him, but he still seemed sad, so I then told him the story of the magic golden flower –evading details about the guard who brought it to the castle, of course. There was something, well, _magical_ about the story. It's like we could all use a miracle, but sometimes we just don't see it, and with the queen's case, the miracle gave life and hope for the kingdom.

The night after I told him the story, there was a thunderous storm like most eves were in the springtime, but I knew it was more than the thunder cracks that were keeping Eugene awake. I told him to be brave like a hero. Then I begin to tell him my story –well, part of it at least; my entire tale sans the details involving Nathan. It was too personal.

After I told him some of my backstory, our relationship changed from student/teacher to friend, confidant, and something similar to family. Each day involved Eugene whipping up an adventure for us to partake. Some days included scaling trees to read amidst the branches of, or mucking stalls together to help chore time go by quicker, or avoiding cleaning duty by slipping into the gardens for strawberries, or running town errands for Mistress. He made the days bearable and actually enjoyable.

Every afternoon, around teatime -if we could afford tea-, the younger kids would wake up from naps and the older ones would be done with afternoon chores, they'd all pile in the large sitting room with mixed-matched furniture, patched pillows, and rugs upon rugs upon rugs. They gathered for a reading session that I narrated being one of the few who could and _would_ read for others. And Eugene was right there beside me on the special "reader's spot" –an old, squat bench painted with an array of colors. Only then, did he sit still, the little squirrel.

Weeks until I abandon the poor kid, I tell him the values Nathan taught me without mentioning where I learned to respect the aspects from. Eugene simply accepted the odd explanation of how I learned the value of duty, honor, and respect. Then, I let Eugene take over the reading time to the other orphans. I casually sat to the side, helping him with the occasional tough word.

The day before I left, I nearly mourned it. Nearly. Eugene and I had grown close in the short time we spent together, but I liked knowing I helped someone who was indirectly learning the values and truths of my late brother. I felt admired by Eugene; I wonder if this is what Nathan felt like.

Pangs squeezed me as I shoved away that thought.

My fifth tenth birthday was uncelebrated except Mistress impatiently waiting for me to leave so she can reconfigure physical space versus actual kids residing there. It's the way she spent every orphan's fifth tenth birthday. She did, however, have the decency to leave Eugene and I alone to say our "good-byes" is private.

"Ya leavin' then?" Eugene asked in an attempt of casual tone. I simply nodded with a small, sad smile in response. Eugene threw the act of nonchalance away and sprinted to wrap his wiry arms around my middle. Immediately, I responded by arching over him and returned the hug.

"Read to the other kids, okay? Keep them out of trouble, and off the streets. Corona doesn't need any more thieves," I told him this with a chuckle, but my thoughts briefly darkened as I pondered over the thief that stole the princess that led to the chaos of me brother-less almost six years ago. Yes, I have accepted my part of his death on that day; how I was in the way and only thinking of my needs during that situation, but he wouldn't have fallen if a knife didn't jab him either.

"Got it," Eugene replied with a good-natured grin. "And mind your leg. I know you can do anything still, but I want you to go easy so you don't tire, okay?" I smiled at the kid's sincerity; as squirrely and sly as he was, he had a big heart.

"You're a good kid, Eugene. Don't forget how much potential you have, because you are so much better than where you're at, kid." I paused my sentimental farewell speech. "Look, I know it's my birthday, but I want to give _you_ something," I informed him. I reached into my satchel and retrieved the only storybook my brother and I had owned. "Here," I offered it to him.

"_The Tales of Flynnigan Ryder_," Eugene read the title. I nodded in approval.

"It was my favorite book growing up. Maybe it can be there for you the way it was for me." I didn't tell him that Nathan had given it to me before his first training day as a soldier; he told me to read it when I missed him. Then, when he'd come home, we'd read it together. Dozens of hours were spent fantasizing over the tales with each other.

"I'll read it to the other kids, I promise." Eugene grinned and he clutched the book to his small chest, but the smile abruptly faded as he asked: "Will I see you around, Conli?"

"Maybe. I don't know how much time off I'll get once I'm in the Guard. But come join me at the castle when you're fifth teen," I replied with a small smile as I tousled his hair. Odd, didn't recall wanting to ruffle his head, but it felt natural.

"Naw, I don't want a castle," he said. "I like climbing better; I'll get a tree house!"

"Yeah," I laughed. "Or maybe a tower?" We both chuckled together, embraced one last time, and parted ways as unlikely friends: a fifth-teen-year-old guardsmen hopeful and a seven-year-old reader with a bright future.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yay! You stuck with it till the end of the chapter. What a trooper. :) Please, review and stay tuned! :)


	4. What to Fight For

**Author's Note:** Wow! You don't cease to amaze me. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me, and I apologize for not updating as soon as I thought I would!

Shoutout to my reviewer "**_Guest_**". I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to message a word of thanks to you, but I do want you to know how much I appreciate your lovely review! I literally squealed at your review as I'm pretty sure your predictions shall form in this chapter. :) Thanks again!

Enjoy this (revised) chapter! (Revisions and edits applied on July 12th)

* * *

I never talked about the day at the cliff when my brother died to anyone, not even Eugene when he told me how his parents died. And I haven't spoken to Gainey since that day either; he didn't ask what happened -other than why Nathan fell over the cliff. Apparently, muttering "stabbed" was enough explanation to have him never pester you about it again. Thus, naturally, me being told to report to the Captain of the Guards for my application and training schedule, I was thrown a bit off route when I ended up speaking to Gainey as I unintentionally bumped into him leaving a regal looking office in the guardsmen quarters of the Royal estate.

"What are you doing here?" he snipped as soon as his darting, brown eyes latched onto my blue ones.

_What was his deal?_

"Joining the guards," I stated as if it's obvious (which it was). He scoffed –the odd brown slab of hair above his lip wriggling like a caterpillar. I could see his doubt in me of actually growing up and overcoming my past. "I'm not that little kid anymore, Gainey, I don't always mess up everything." My defense seemed weak. I knew he was examining my stance and noticed how I favor putting the majority of my weight on my right leg. My left, the one that was trapped, is fine usually, but excessive usage made me tire. And I had been fidgeting all day; my leg was near warped with exhaustion. And it was only eight in the morning.

"Know how to address your superiors," he sneered as he completely ignored my previous statement. I opened my mouth to ask what that meant when another voice interrupted my question.

"Captain Gainey!" hollered a soldier a few feet away. Gainey's and my eyes collide as I hear Gainey's title.

"C-captain?" I struggled out. _Nathan's dream job lived out for one day only to be transferred to… Gainey? _I suddenly found myself blinking back tears, and then beating back my heating anger at how easily I quiver with emotion at a dumb military title.

"Know how to address your superiors, soldier," Gainey repeated in a low, stern tone. His stance shifted to give his attention to the guard in the door who called for Gainey moments prior. "Yes, Soldier Howard, you have a need?"

"Captain, the bunk for the newbie..." his eyes danced briefly over to me before adjusting back to lock with Gainey's gaze, "is set up so he may train until official recruitment in two weeks," reported Howard.

"_If_ he's accepted," Gainey strained. "You require anything else?"

"Yes, sir," Howard tersely nodded.

"Thank you, Soldier," Gainey dismissed. "Conli," Gainey addressed me, "I shall need your application for recruitment and your rent for your stay in the bunks since you're early."

"I understand, sir, but why... why wasn't I allowed to pay rent years ago and live with you?" I dared ask.

"Multiple factors -four, really- come to mind specifically in making your request come true," Gainey nonchalantly stated with a low release of breath. "One: the occupant must be of age, which you weren't until..."

"Today," answered I to his unasked question.

"A second reason being that only citizens with Applications of Intent for the Royal Guard may reside in the bunks, which you have now given me." Gainey flicked the papers I had to fill out before meeting the captain. "Thirdly, you must pay for your stay in the barracks until you are officially accepted. And our rent in much loftier than the inn's keep for just the reason of men taking advantage of room and board if they are a certain age."

This conversation was only circling what I wanted to be truly said. My fists shook in anger at Gainey's beating around the bush.

"And what of the Person of Claim Policy?" I burst to him. My eyes were previously clenched, much like my hands, but I released my laborious blink to stare into Gainey's eyes with the ferocity I felt burning in my aching being.

"How?-I- I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"The Person of Claim Policy being a policy where a man of Corona armor has every right to take in family or friends into their assigned quarter; granted, of course, they are financially able to and willing. The guard taking in the additional persons also has every right to apply for larger quarters to comfortably accommodate the excess personnel. The bigger housing does involve a higher rent, but of which, the first month is considerably cheaper as the ones moving into the home of the soldier most likely have no income. This is all safe and dandy and all, for the king and queen personally look over the applications for the Person of Claim Policy to protect the soldiers of being abused for housing.

"Such a policy was instated when fellow guardsmen's wives, children, or _siblings_ suddenly found themselves without a main source of income and their loved one. A soldier of relation -blood or by guardsmen brotherhood- could then, legally let said members reside in safety on the Royal Grounds. This policy emphasizes how even when the world doesn't look out for you, someone possessing the pride of Corona will." The monologue was nearly pinpoint perfect to what the decree stated in the Corona Law and Policy Book. "I've read it many a time when I found myself utterly alone and abandoned in an _orphanage_ without the slightest hope of another soul to care for mine."

"That policy i-is of much use and it's validity is vital the survival of this kingdom's companionship," Gainey rambled without eye contact.

"That policy also lifts the age restriction and Application of Intent for the Royal Guard."

"But it doesn't change the funds. The solider must be financially able and personally willing."

"I know you had the money, Gainey! And you know I had work and would've continued to earn my keep had you just enacted the policy!"

"Finances weren't the hindrance in applying for the Person of Claim Policy, Conli. It was a heart matter," Gainey explained; his voice softening, but eyes refusing to lock onto mine. Realizing how personal this conversation was turning, Gainey straightened his back, cleared his throat, and hardened his eyes as he latched his stare back upon me. "I have much more important matters to discuss than frivolities of the past and why I didn't want y-…. Anyway. I'll review your application and get back to you as soon as I can, Mr. Anderson."

"Where shall I pick up my trainee uniform?" Smugly I asked him with a hoity-toity air to shield my hurt pride that came hand-in-hand with how I filled in the blanks of his cut-off sentence. He could have cared for me -residentially _or_ brotherly- but he chose neither by casting me aside and picking himself and his reasons for why he didn't want me.

"Presumptuous of you to assume I'm passing your application." Gainey narrowed his eyes as he swung his military authority around like cowboy's sling their ropes.

"Looking forward training, _Captain_," I bit back after his challenge.

"We'll see," Gainey sneered.

* * *

I was stuck waiting in a small room as Gainey went over my application for early-recruitment. It was beyond nerve-racking.

"I thought that it was you when I saw you walk into the Captain's office earlier," a voice from the sitting area's door sounded.

"Uhh?"

"Oh, sorry, where are my manners?" he blustered. "I'm Bryon."

A flood of flashbacks bombarded my head. The horrible cliff day, the awful funeral, the wretched walk home, and the more than unpleasant discussion with _this guy_ that I was to be placed in an orphanage by the _very man_ controlling the results of my test/life at that very moment. Oh, how life was a funny thing, sometimes.

"Oh, you," I muttered.

"I see you haven't outgrown the quick sentences for replying," Bryon commented with a light grin. I didn't respond. "That'll come in handy during drills and withholding sass and smart aleck comments to the commanders or Captain."

"Look, I'm really not in the m-"

"Not in the mood?" he interrupted and finished.

"Mhmm, yeah," I grumbled.

"You said the same thing when you first met me six years ago," Bryon announced.

"That's interesting that you remembered…"

"It's all I can remember," he said in a desperate voice. "Every day that conversation, me telling you why lived the why you did, and then informing you that you had to be evicted… it haunts me every single day. I regret bearing the bad news more than anything else."

"Sorry?" I managed to say, unsure of how to respond to that kind of confession.

"No, no. I don't think you understand, Conli," he rambled. The fact that remembered my name (and recalled it correctly) caught my attention more than anything else. "Nathan deserved more than that. You deserved more than everything that's transpired against you." I remained silent, but Bryon took this as a sign to keep going. "Nathan was a loyal, dedicated, hard-working guard. Your father, from what I've heard from my own dad, was a loyal, dedicated, hard-working guard as well. And do you know why they were the way they were?"

"They're good people," I answered.

"They had someone to fight for," Bryon corrected with a small smile. "They had someone to come home to, even if the home itself wasn't much. But that never seemed to bother either one of them because they both had you waiting for them. And…" he paused as if debating whether to say the next part of his monologue or not. "And Conli, I think Nathan would want me to say this, but that has to be enough for you too. I know you two are completely different people, but we can't have it all. Some people can make the most out of what they do have. I know you feel as if what you _do_ have _is_ nothing, but I'm sure if you thought hard about it, you'll find mountains of blessings. You need to find those blessings, those people to fight for, and fight for the happiness that you deserve."

I didn't say anything back to the sincere soldier. How could I? What does one say to the man who personally knew your late brother and was asking you to make the sacrifices he made to be a happier person?

* * *

"Conli!" the harsh whisper came from somewhere in the trees of the yard where many of the trainees were doing daily warm-ups –me included. Quickly, though, I decided the voice was the wind and continued on with focusing on the routines the solider up front was performing.

A flying object –hard like a rock- suddenly struck me on my arm.

"Ow," I murmured aloud. A few nearby guardsmen-in-training peered at me in speculation. I was, after all, the newbie, and still under potential training as the official recruitment happened at the end of each month. Only two more days to go as the weird orphaned kid who resembled a lost puppy stuck on the stoop of the royal Guard.

"Conli!" the voice quietly yipped again. I was sure it was one of the guards playing a prank on me… again. "Conli, turn around!" This caught my attention; the voice was much higher than any of the usual soldiers involved with my seemingly-humorous torture.

"Eugene?" I asked in disbelief. There -dangling from the branches- sat Eugene Fitzherbert. That kid sure loved his trees. "What are you doing here?"

"Why do you ask that like you're not happy to see me?"

"Well, uh, of course I am glad to see you, Eugene, but I don't want to get into trouble either," I muttered as I tried to both look at him and face the front to appear at attention. "Why are you here?" I uttered a harsh whisper to the kid.

"I finished!" Eugene enthusiastically replied.

"Finished what?" exasperated I.

"The book! _The Tales of Flynnigan Ryder_. I read all of it. Many times, actually. It's a hit with the other kids, Conli."

"Uh, great," I murmured. Gainey was noticing my slack in attention.

"It's made me decide something," Eugene continued despite the painfully obvious fact I refused to turn my head to acknowledge him. "I want to be like him."

"Like who?" I was hardly paying attention to him.

"The Ryder guy in the book. He has… well, _everything_."

"Why do you think you need to have everything, Eugene," I ask as his statements were finally making an impression upon me.

I sensed him stiffen, not in defense but in seriousness, as he answered with an honest and whole heart: "Do you think anyone would leave a guy who has everything?"

His question caught me off guard. _What was that suppose to mean? _I hesitated in answering, causing me to falter in my warm-ups.

A dreadfully noticeable stumble.

"Conli, attention!" reprimanded the commanding officer a few yards away –I was caught not fully focusing. The should caused Gainey to readjust his predator vision upon me. He moved closer towards me a few steps.

"Conli!" Gainey barked once he sensed the scene I was caught in. "If you have other obligations than the Royal Guard, feel free to fulfill them. We both know where you truly belong."

Nathan's dying words reminded me why I was here: to serve him, my family, and the royals. To make sure other families won't have to experience what I went through: losing both parents and a brother. My resolve solidified.

"I belong here, sir, in the Royal Guard serving Corona," I stiffly answered to Gainey. He seemed slightly surprise –I don't think he meant for his verbal abuse to be replied to.

"Then prove it, soldier," the Captain remarked as he and the other commanding officer pivoted on their fancy guardsmen boots, and marched rhythmically away.

"Eugene, you need to go back where you belong; this is where I belong," I managed to say in a quiet tone as I know I was under harsh scrutiny from the officers –specifically Gainey.

"But I don't want to go," he wailed just loud enough for me not clearly hear the instructor's commands and accidentally miss the step. I knew Gainey couldn't have missed it. I could practically see him snip the thread of a chance I had of making in the final days before recruitment.

"Hush up!" I snapped under my breath. "And get out of here before you get me in trouble."

"When did you turn into a jerk?"

"I'm not a jerk, I'm just trying to do my job," I frustratingly answered.

"I liked it better when your job was in the stables with the horses and hay fever sneezes," Eugene quipped. "You should come back."

"I can't change my life just because you're not happy with where you are, Eugene. Now hush and leave!" I begged in a bitter whisper.

"Everyone keeps on leaving me behind," Eugene muttered in a mournful, pouty tone.

"Maybe because you can't keep up," I snapped before I could realize my words' intensities. I immediately dropped my soldier pose to face Eugene. At first, his face was a heartbreaking combination of shock and hurt. Then, as my words settled upon his fragile being, I saw the face harden with resolve.

"No, Conli Anderson, _you _will be the one who can't keep up. You will be the one left behind."

Full of regret with my words, but sated with cowardice as I withheld the shout of calling Eugene back for forgiveness, I watched him leave.

Footsteps alerted me back to the training, but I released a sigh in relief of who was approaching.

"What's with you today, Conli?" Bryon asked as he neared.

"Sorry, I, uh, got distracted."

"With what, pray tell?"

"My past."

"Well, I suggest you get over it and fix your focusing skills, or else you'll get left behind in the recruitment, bud," he chastised. Bryon awkwardly lifted a hand and patted my shoulder. Comfort, I suppose, was his goal, but I didn't feel worthy of that.

* * *

It's been a week since I last spoke to Eugene. And five days since I've heard news of an orphan runaway. I felt sick.

Bryon was a loyal friend, or whatever you call our acquaint-like relationship, throughout the days, though. He never did pry as to why my mood soured so quickly, but he was there with a smile or lame joke. I could tell he desperately wanted my forgiveness, and I knew I shouldn't withhold it from him, but letting him know I wasn't mad at him meant I had to let go of that day. I wasn't ready for that.

I wasn't ready for the final results of the official recruitment either. Nerve-rackingly, the latter was happening.

"Conli," Gainey beckoned me into his regal office. I tried to hide my shaking as he swiftly swooped his brown eyes over the official papers. "Know that I must remain un-biased on recruiting new guards."

"I understand… Sir," I responded with strength, hopefully.

"Although I do not concur with this decision, my fellow guardsmen and advisors have pointed out your strengths and talents that outweigh your… deficiencies."

"Deficiencies, sir?"

"Apparently you're weaker in your left leg than your right," his answer was terse and nearing a mocking tone, I was quite sure.

"Yes, sir," muttered I as my gaze lowered to the scoff on my boots.

"Thus," Gainey continued in a superior tone, "factoring all that into the acceptance equation… welcome aboard."

Somehow, the euphoria I associated with the acceptance into the Royal Guard didn't hit as hard as I assumed. But maybe it had something to do with the image of Eugene's heartbroken face blurring my vision. I quickly closed my eyes to block out the memory of me scolding him and him hardening his spirit against me. As I opened my blue orbs, I saw Bryon walking the corridor and suddenly knew what needed to happen.

"Hey, Bryon." He looked surprised I was actually speaking to him.

"Congratulations on joining the Guard, Conli," he said with an easy smile.

"Thanks," I breathed. How was I suddenly out of breath? "Um, you know how you once told me that my dad and brother both had something to fight for?"

Bryon patiently nodded in response.

"I think I've found what I need to fight for, but I can't until I give it away first," I said.

"I don't get it," Bryon confessed.

"This past week, a…. guilt, has befallen me, and I want to rid of it, but the only way of doing that is making amends with the person I wronged," I explained. "I really messed up and said things I regret; it'll take a big apology to make it right again. So, I need to fight for redemption."

Realization began to dawn upon Bryon's face.

"Do you mean…?"

"It's not really my place to offer it, because it was never your fault, but it's the first step towards my fight, and I know how much it'd mean to you, so Bryon, I want you to know that I in no way blame you or hold you against the words your duty had called you to deliver to me all those years ago. You did nothing wrong, but since it was my forgiveness you sought, it's my pleasure to tell you, Bryon, that your wait and search for redemption was not in vain."

Bryon's face broke out in an enormous grin that light up the room more than the floating lanterns that filled the sky every year.

"Thank you," he whispered with a smile. "And, Conli, know that what you're fighting for, that redemption, shall not be in vain either."


	5. Shining Character

**Author's Note:** You are so amazing for sticking with me despite the long gap of updates! I am sorry about that, but my excuse is valid: I was in Africa! Best experience ever! If you're curious about my stay, please take a moment and read my blog found here minus the spaces: forget me not writing . wordpress . com

Please enjoy this chapter in the meantime of me working out more of the storyline; so many thoughts and plot twists and tie ins keep on bombarding my original story, but it'll be good, I think! Hopefully. Well, happy reading! :)

* * *

I never understood the term "blessing in disguise" until I was assigned to the stables.

Technically, it's not a position for the Royal Guard sans a security guard patrolling the overall Royal Corral, but, as Captain Gainey declared, I should stick to a generally small section to guard because of my "deficiencies". When Bryon heard this, he demanded justice and accused discrimination from the Captain –very brave of a guardsman, I must say.

I probably would have agreed with him, too, had Gainey not perfectly pegged me. He _knew_ I was terribly frightened to take on a huge job. He knew of my way with horses. But he was also quite aware of my hay allergy. Thus, the blessing in disguise comes into play. I loved the horses, the typically low-key responsibilities, the normal hours, and being able to be apart of the Royal Guard, but the hay was horrible.

This is how I found myself knocking on the ajar door to the Captain's office without waiver (hopefully).

"Captain Gainey, might I borrow a moment of your time?" I braved to ask the stern-as-ever captain. You'd think the guy would lighten up every now and then.

"Make it quick, Conli. I have to reorganize the crown protection schedule. Tim had the audacity to request all of next week off of duty and it's throwing off my entire regiment," Gainey griped.

"Uh, Sir? Tim's getting married," I hesitantly corrected. "He told you about it… over a year ago."

Gainey grunted.

"But anyway, Sir, this is good timing, then."

"Why's that, Conli?" Gainey demanded in a short tone as he folded his hands together with an impatient, and possibly bored, expression plastered on his face.

"Sir, I love the stables and am honored that you placed the corral and the horses in my care," I began. "But, Sir, I've been stationed there for over four years and I cannot, in good health, continue on there every day. Even a shift just once a week would be beneficial to my hay allergy, Sir."

"You want leave from the Guard?"

"No, Sir… just relocation," I suggested.

"Visit Dr. Mertens and get his opinion on being in the corral environment," dismissively Gainey billowed.

"I have, Sir," I interjected before he could return his attention to his papers. "And Dr. Mertens says with my allergy to hay, I should refrain from even entering the stables on a weekly basis, let alone as a daily duty."

"Ah, very well. I cannot endanger a soldier, I suppose, huh?" he muttered. It wasn't much, but he _did_ group me as a guardsman/under his care –it's a start.

"Should…" I battled to keep my voice nonchalant as I spoke to Gainey, "_I_ fill in for Soldier Tim, then, Sir?" I tried to extinguish the hope fluttering in my possibility of leaving the feverish stables.

This gained his attention. The Captain glanced up from his papers and gave me a long, silent stare. Finally, he heaved a sigh and tossed his schedule of other soldiers filling in for Tim aside. "Fine," he huffed. "But just this week and you must take his hours starting today, so then he may show you the proper routine."

"Thank you, Sir!" I couldn't hold back my glee as I exclaimed with a wide grin. He murmured a "whatever" and officially dismissed me from the stuffy office.

Once outside the door, I spied Bryon casually pretending to patrol the hall adjacent to the Captain's office. We made eye contact in my passing and I shot him a thumbs up which he enthusiastically mimicked. I was moving up and out of the stables and onto one of the most trusted, secure guarding positions in the palace. The four years of horses, mucking, and patrolling the same corral were beginning to look worth it.

* * *

Tim must really love this girl, I concluded, once I reviewed how he didn't even grimace when he saw me coming or shudder when I reported to him I was to be his replacement with him gone next week. Unlike his partner, Ron, who scoffed when he saw me approach.

After a few minutes of basic explaining their duty, Ron sighed, "The hand is at the top of the hour."

I glanced at the large clock poised in the regal room. "Meaning?" I asked the guards.

"Meaning, _Greenhorn_, that we need to patrol the outer halls around the Throne Room," snapped Ron.

"I'll take the stroll, Ron. You stay back and guard the old crown jewel while I show the proper pivot to _Conli_ here," Tim stated. I mentally blessed the man for stressing my true name to the bitter soldier who insisted I was still a newbie even after four years.

Ron muttered something about that being fine with him so then he wouldn't have to hear any more blabber about the wedding for a few moments. I was curious what Ron had meant by this until…

"Ah, Conli," Tim breathed in bliss once we exited the room and began to parade about the halls. "This is such a good time of the year to get married! The weather is prime, the waters calm, the sun bright but not hot, the flowers blooming but without insects infestations. But none of that truly matters. My bride-to-be would be radiant with a blizzard building up or in the sweltering days of July; she's a true gem. When you meet a girl like my Sophia Anne, you'll find a whole new reason to don the Corona armor and protect the Royal family's honor as if it were own. It is, actually, when you think about it."

"How's that, sir?" I asked the guardsman on Cloud Nine. I think I was starting to see what Ron was referring to about wedding jabber from Tim, now.

"The Royal Family is more than the presumed stuffy, distant, taxes-are-all-that-matter, status-is-value, the-poor-are-useless stereotypical royalty… they're… kind, wise, quiet, sometimes too somber, but they have good reason. They welcome the employed in the palace and workers in the kingdom like long-lost friends. They pick up dropped utensils themselves, give us days off, and hear our every complaint with just as attentive ears as with every compliment. They treat you like you matter… like you're everything almost."

Tim's innocent and true statement immediately snapped me to one of the final lines I heard from Eugene before I shamefully dismissed him in fear of authority_. _

_Do you think anyone would leave a guy who has everything?_

"Wh-what do you mean?" I finally ask him as he corrected my pivot around the outer halls of the throne room –which housed the Lost Princess's crown as well.

"Hmmm, I don't know really," Tim mused more of to himself than to me. "I guess… They treat you like their own, like an equal…"

"How kind," someone said. The voice startled both Tim and I. We were not aware we had an audience to this conversation. The figure moved from the dim doorway and into the lit hall.

"Your Majesty," Tim greeted in grovel with a humble bow. The Queen replied with a slight nod of her regal brunette-haired head. "I pray the conversation you overheard was not in any way offending."

"On the contrary, Soldier Tim; quite generous with compliments and sated with goals my husband and I should aspire to live up to." A sparkle glinted her spring green eyes with a matching cheerful grin.

Slyly, I tried to analyze her to see if the queen was all Nathan, Gainey, and now Tim made her up to be. She had on a dark green gown; the style the same as the mosaic of her, the king, and the lost princess displayed in the town square. Her hair was wrapped in a bun under her shiny gold crown whose jewels put a rainbow of summer wildflowers to shame they were so bright. She was meek –her voice matching- but not in a weak way. More similar to controlled power, timidity, gentleness, and a hint of sadness all combined for her stoic, royal representation. I was curious as to why she was awake, but then I kept in mind that it was the start of our shift: just a bit after eleven o'clock now.

She smoothly shifted her head to take in my image beside Tim. "I apologize, I don't believe I know your name, Soldier…?"

"Conli, Y-your Grace. I'm Conli Anderson. Former guardsman of the stables," I answered as noble as I could.

"When you say Anderson, are you related to the late Captain Nathan Anderson, son of the late Commander Maxwell Anderson?" she gently questioned, her expression thoughtful.

"Yes," I somberly confirmed. "He was my brother. I was nine when…" I trailed off seeing her fully connect the events of his death connecting to her daughter's disappearance. "I'm sorry for your loss, Your Grace."

"And I for you, Soldier Conli," she responded over the lump of emotion welling up in her. She held her blink for a moment longer than normal, composing herself, I imagine, then she opened her green orbs. A shadow lingered there, possibly always has, but her face held a consistent, small smile. "Shall I explain to both of you Corona soldiers what 'everything' means to me, personally? I obviously can't sleep and I'm assuming you both have the time…?"

Even if we didn't want to, I'm not sure you simply refuse the queen of the kingdom on an invitation like that.

"I'd be most honored," Tim bowed again and I quickly followed suit. The queen laughed and gently flicked her wrist as if dismissing our actions of respect to the noble.

"My hope when Soldier Tim describes we treat our employed with respect 'like everything' it means we treat them as we, my husband and I, want to be treated. We want to treat you like you're everything in the sense that you are. You guardsmen are the protection of this kingdom; enforcing the law, keeping citizens safe, and endangering your own lives for the well-being of others. You and all the employed here in the palace, and all citizens of Corona, really, are valuable as only you can contribute to the kingdom what you uniquely can. All of you have so much to offer this employment, kingdom, and world… Because of our daughter's absence, we feel as if all the citizens are our family. Of course, the king and I have always felt this way towards you all, but especially so since our princess became… lost," her voice had grown sad, but it was an accepted sadness on her part. She wasn't going to deny the truth even if it wasn't a fairy tale ending. It always is at the late hours of night when a person's true character seemed to shine the most. And her qualities were blinding in proper regality and comfort all at once.

We had strolled with the Queen as she shared her thoughts with Tim and me, and we ended up at the side door of the throne room. The Queen shifted her gaze from her fixated point in the distance where I'm sure she fantasized seeing her daughter safely home, and turned to glance through the open door.

"So, I suppose," she continued, "it's pretty much wrapped up in the image of the Lost… Princess's crown: valuable, but not for the reasons you think. It holds so much more meaning because of whose head it was to rest upon than the jewels encrusted in the gold. It's pretty now, but magnificent on that precious blonde head… Because it can't be possessed by the girl who was suppose to don it along with the responsibilities to the kingdom, we leave it here, for others of the kingdom to observe and hopefully help fill that void of family."

"That's beautiful," I commented to the Queen about her tale. Then, I gestured to the royal headpiece, "That's beautiful as well, and now in even more ways than I originally had placed on it." She offered a small, understanding but still sad smile to my response.

"It's… the most valuable object I could ever own."

"As it is ours," Tim bowed, "to protect and honor the Lost Princess's impact upon Corona."

* * *

It was later on in our shift when I asked Tim if the queen took that much time to get to know all of her soldiers. Oddly, he took a while to respond before quietly saying that my case and family's history was a bit prone to be known more than other guards' legacies. With those deep words, he excused himself to patrol the halls once more, leaving me with the bitter Ron.

"Don't get too high and mighty there, Lil' Andy," Ron sneered using the name he settled on since Tim chided him on Greenhorn. I'm not sure why he belittles me so, I was, actually, a year _older_ than him, but he did have more experience since I've been in the stables with the most action being two horses trying to eat out of the same trough. Looking back, my past four years seem hollow compared to Ron's adventures of night guarding, scouting, and even a kerfuffle or two.

"High and mighty about what?" I entertain him by asking. It was just now four hours into the night shift, after all; time had to pass somehow.

"The queen noticin' ya. She'll forget you and your legacy soon enough. You're no more special to her or the family than I am with my brother who took a horse's hoof to his leg for the king once."

"Whoa," I breathed in awe. "What happened?" I didn't mean to fuel Ron's pride, but a heroic story was always a good way to pass the long night hours. Unfortunately, Tim then demanded I come with him so I knew how to patrol the dim halls in the early morn hours. Ron and I didn't get a chance to speak on the matter until Thursday and I was nearly bursting with questions on Ron's bitterness and what happened to his brother's legacy.

Ron told me of how his brother, Ari, was a Royal Guardsmen for just about four years, but as wise as any commander with a handful of decades under his belt. Ari was defending Corona bravely as they were under attack from the SIRs, or Southern Isles Raiders –a pirate gang spawning from the island nation miles south of Corona. They were anything but what one would consider a gentlemanlike "sir". The leader, Fontino, landed on the castle grounds with a platform of hatred for anything Corona; especially the ruler of said kingdom.

Fontino mercilessly approached the king who was being held captive in the stables by the other SIRs. Ari saw Fontino enter the stables and ran in, but was undetected by both king and captor. The king expertly blocked Fontino's strikes with his own blade and eventually caused Fontino's weapon to fly out of his sweaty palm. The sword hit a lantern and knocked the flames onto the dry hay. The sparks landed near the king's horse that started bucking wildly as the fire was building. The king immediately sought the safety of his animals and went to free the horse since it was tied to a post, when another nearby horse brayed and bucked as well. It would have kicked the king, had Ari not predicted the situation and jumped in the way of the hoof.

The only structural damage was to the stables. I always wondered why parts of the stables looked as if freshly redone; apparently, the fire occurred just a year prior to my enlistment.

Ari's hit, however, was much more impactful. The horse took him down and made him permanently lame in the kicked side.

It was also rumored that Fantino earned a nasty scar on his face, but it's unclear as to where the strike was of sword or flame; the king refuses to discuss it, rumors declare.

"But I don't get it," I state when it was obvious Ron finished his tale. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because, Green- Andy," he corrected, I frowned at the nickname still, but at least he wasn't completely degrading me. "The king never repaid Ari for his sacrifice, never thanked him for keeping the king and Corona safe, and promptly took Ari's Royal Guard position away from him when the king learned Ari was useless on one side."

I shifted uncomfortably. Some guards were aware of my leg's weaker state, but so far it hasn't hindered my duties to the crown, so they all tended to ignore it, I think.

"The royals, specifically the king, know what they have: us. And they don't appreciate it," Ron spat. Before I could comment, Tim entered the room.

"Have I ever told you guys how I met Sophia Anne, my bride-to-be?" Tim asked. Again, before I could respond, Tim lurched into a long tale of taking someone's post when it was his day off, and how he stumbled into her, and how it was meant to be, and blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc. This was the third time I've heard the story, and I've only been posting with he and Ron for four days so far.

I couldn't really focus on Tim's words as I mulled over Ron's story and comparing it to what the queen herself had said we meant to her. It didn't add up, but I needed to decide what my conclusion was and soon, Nathan wanted me to be a guard to protect the family, but if they were just a bunch of royals who lied and had no honor, surely Nathan would understand my leaving…

_What was I talking about?!_ I chastised myself. _How could you possibly even consider leaving the Royal Guard? You know what Nathan believed in and you know he would not stand for something he didn't believe in and you know he believed in you, too. _

_ But did he know exactly what he believed in? Was he duped?_

My thoughts were interrupted when I had to round the halls with Tim –at least my discombobulated thoughts would be stilled during his lengthy tales.

Our shift eventually ended with the rising sun. Tim, thankfully, was cut off from his second round of how he and Sophia Anne decided on a wedding cake flavor when the change of guards entered.

We three left the throne room with another night of the crown successfully safe and sound. Tim decided to grab some grub before turning in; I was too bushed to even think about breakfast. Apparently, so was Ron, as we both silently stalked past the food room for the guards and marched towards the barracks and sleeping quarters. It was an awkward silence between us.

When we reached our separate areas, Ron spoke quietly, but with a determined and set jaw. "Remember what I said, Conli." Ron's use of my actual name snapped my attention.

"Never get married?" I lamely joked at Ron's previous advice during one of Tim's love monologues.

Ron shrank his eyes to narrowed slits and growled his correction, "The royals are only out for themselves and you're only valuable to them as long as you're protecting their precious hides and that crown." His advice was said with malice sliced between the words and it caught me by surprise that he was so willing to voice his opinion against the very kingdom he has sworn to protect. It always is at the late hours of night when a person's true character seemed to shine the most.

After I didn't respond immediately, he muttered, "Forget it," and slammed the door.

That was the last time I ever saw Ron the nighttime crown guard.


	6. Spaces After Your Letters

**Author's Note:** Hello, my gem! Thank you so much for sticking with this story despite my absurd rate of updates. I really appreciate your support of reading this FanFic and would greatly appreciate a review. I hope this chapter will suffice before we get to the good stuff; Conli's timeline overlapping with the movie is arriving soon! Yay! But, before then, you must bear through this chapter, which, honestly, is basically a huge pep talk, but **pay attention**. I give away some plot points in the details, hehe! Enjoy!

* * *

"Alright, man," Bryon jolted the silence with his loud voice. I glanced up from the hay fever remedies pamphlet I was feigning interest in; clearly Bryon didn't fall for my supposedly occupied state amidst our break between shifts. "I can't take Ron's disappearance, _and_ lovey-dovey-Tim-the-day-before-the-big-day-mushy-gushy-fluff, _and_ you being all mopey! So, obviously, _something_ has got to change, and we both know which two won't help right now," Bryon chastised me in a way that always made me feel the many years his junior that I truly were; funny how friendship forgets the bounds of age, sometimes.

But Bryon's point was valid. Tim: hardly tolerable as groom-zilla with the wedding tomorrow. And Ron? It's been days since anyone has seen or heard of the scruffy, bitter ginger. Ron's random leaving puzzled us all, but it also meant I got to keep the night guard duty on the crown for a while longer.

"I don't know what you mean," I fibbed, knowing full well that Bryon will see right past those false words. That's the downside to a best friend: they know you so well -but I suppose that's also the bright side in having a close comrade.

"Uh-huh," Bryon huffed with an eye-roll.

"What?"

"Conli," he demanded in an authoritative tone. "What's been up with you? You've been whack since Ron's been gone. I highly doubt your mood is so dependent upon him… But… I have been wrong before."

"It's not Ron's physical presence, or lack-of, that's bothering me," I began. How did Bryon always manage to get to the root of the problem with such ease? "It's what he said to me before he left…"

"And…?" Bryon impatiently asked as if it was a given I too spill what Ron talked about.

"He claimed –_claims_- that the royals don't appreciate us guards, and that they are only out for themselves…" my statement now sounded silly even to me; I didn't need Bryon's bored expression to confirm that. "The king…" I splurged on through the muddle of words Ron threw at me to help defend my doubt, "got rid of soldier who was injured while protecting him! The guard wasn't able to use his leg properly, but he still got the boot. What else am I suppose to think when I have that same connection working for the same royal! I don't want… everything I've been building for and working towards a-and dreaming of to be a lie... I can't have Nathan's legacy be… a farce."

Bryon's determined and somewhat fierce expression slipped into a softer one as his crossed arms dropped to his sides throughout my explanation whose words had gotten quieter as I continued to ramble.

"I just… don't want this to be… for naught," I lamely blabbered when Bryon didn't immediately interject after my confession.

"I have two statements to declare," Bryon said. "And I'm only going to say both of them once for they only need to be said once, and then fulfilled and lived out in action. You don't have all the facts about the soldier who was injured and disposed of, so you don't know if he truly had defended the king or was the one attempting to hurt him. You weren't there and your 'witness' is a hypothetically Ron –who isn't all that reliable in the first place.

"Secondly, Conli, _brother_, you have **got** to get over this leg thing about yourself. Yes, it's damaged or was or _whatever_, but if you let that hold you back, then how do you expect to live up to your potential? Your potential of not just being a guard, but as a Corona citizen, as a human being expected to contribute good to this world?

"Your label of crippled or orphan or meek or however you see yourself are only as true as you allow them to be, and you're letting them overpower the good labels and titles in your life such as guardsman, friend, comrade, and beloved brother," Bryon sighed.

"You and I both knew Nathan for similar lengths of time, but in different ways: you as the brother and me as the guardsman/co-worker of sorts. He was an honorable, hard working, and devoted human being who believed in a greater tomorrow than of today and that togetherness is essential for accomplishing feats. He believed in Corona and in the crown and in all that entails with the royals. He knew what they were about and wanted to preserve that ideal, just as all the other guards do as well. We want to protect and fight for Corona and the Royals.

"And, Conli, the thing is about life is that there are always choices. You don't have to choose serving in the guard. It's wrong of us to expect you to just because your father and brother before you served the Crown, but you don't have to walk in that path. You don't have to possess the same beliefs and ideals that Nathan did, but you're lying to yourself and all of us if you're only here because you feel like you have to be. And if a few words from an irritated guardsman can shake your viewpoints so much, maybe it's time for you to reevaluate why you're here -as harsh as that sounds," his strong tone quietly slipped to a meeker state with his final words to his no-nonsense monologue.

Bryon looked tired, as if the speech exhausted him, and he sighed once more as he pinched the bridge of his nose. When his hand fell from his face after a few moments of silence, he clasped my shoulder briefly, glanced at the clock, and quietly exited our bunkroom. We both knew that his shift didn't start for a while yet, but I figured he knew I needed to sort through some stuff.

But this room was suffocating. And my fellow guardsmen next door weren't holding to their neighborly aspect as they laughed, spat, and roughhoused –a shift ending, probably.

I sighed and took my leave of the cramped room as well, and began to wander. The thing with attempting to seek peace in a palace was that it was non-existent. Until the idea struck me. I nearly laughed for it was so obvious. I knew where to go, but I just didn't know the location of my haven. I quickly found it, though, after a few questions to some guardsmen on duty in the halls. I stood in awe of the awesome doors –so massive to just protect books, but a library was quiet, and quiet was necessary.

The doors, despite their enormous size, opened easily without a squeak. Cautiously I stepped inside and began to stroll the luminous shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, maps, dictionaries, and anything of knowledge related.

Here, was when I realized just how much I missed reading. Nathan and I did it all the time back home, and Eugene and I read to the kids in the orphanage, but no time really opened itself up to the luxury of dedicating hours to a novel or even educational non-fiction save the Royal Guard manual and Royal decrees and laws (and I don't count reading on medical advice for hay allergies as "fun" reading, either).

I was so lost in nostalgia and books, that I didn't hear anybody in the sanctuary until they cleared their throat. Alarmed, I spun around and braced myself for a fight –soldier's instinct, I suppose.

"Why, hello there, lad," greeted the middle-aged man. He perched in a chair behind a desk that could house centuries of secrets. His hair seemed faded, but still attached with a dark auburn hue. Glasses clouded his eyes so I could not see their color, but he appeared to be watching my every move, and suddenly I felt like a mouse before it's predator. How did I possibly miss him when I entered the room, I mused to myself?

"Hi?" I answered in question.

"I thought I knew all the indoor palace guards, but I do not recognize you. Apologies, lad. What's your name?"

"I'm Conli…" I hesitated to provide my last name, but decided it couldn't hurt anything. "Conli Anderson, sir."

"Hmm, a name I partially recognize, now," he mumbled. "I'm Murphy Artson. Who are you?"

"Uh," this question stumbled me. "I thought I just told you?"

"Ha!" he chuckled as if it was all some amusing game. "Your name isn't all who you are, now, is it?"

"Pardon?"

"Your name is Conli Anderson, by that name I know you are a legacy guardsman due to your late father and brother, but you can be so much more than just a guard, I predict," Murphy stated. "One's name is a part of them, true, but it's not all who they are or can be. Although, it appears you stopped your personal growth right after the last letter of your name and didn't dare extend it."

My mouth fell agape at his boldness.

"It's a very good thing," Murphy continued, "we can grow past our names and their reputation. My family's name means well on some days, but on others I'm ashamed to be associated with them. I don't stop loving them, but I also don't let them stop me."

Still, wide hung my mouth. I closed it, opened it to ask a question, but shut it again. Murphy smiled and nodded apparently seeing the gesture and wanting me to continue.

"I'm, well…" How do you put this into words? "I don't know what I should do with the spaces after my name," I ended up finally saying. As I reflected over my words, I mentally slapped myself; I must look like a fool to the librarian. Again, he simply smiled, but with a slight chuckle.

"I was in that same exact place, too, once."

"What'd you do, then, to get out of it?"

"I had to process what I was taught was right and what I thought was right –as the morals of each were shifting, you see. I was raised one way, and then was put into a position where I learned another, and the latter was making much more sense."

"_That_ doesn't make sense," I commented to Murphy.

"Well, you see, lad, I had to step out of my family's shadow and ask myself if what I was doing was to please them or me, and when I discovered that the answer was them, I had to ask why. Then when the reasons why I was doing it for them didn't match with the moral I was adopting, I had to separate myself from that," Murphy said, sadness, I could detect, was quietly laying in his voice.

"So," I began as I processed his story, "you had to figure out if you were doing this job because you wanted to or because your family expected you to?"

"More or less, yes," he answered.

"And because you did opposite of what they said, you were then free of their reputation and shadow?"

"Hmmm, well, I suppose so. But my situation was a bit different from what I'm guessing yours is…" the way Murphy worded this I knew he was asking for me to explain it all. I sighed with a small grin and told him it all: what Nathan meant to me, the ideals and morals he instilled in me, what his death meant, what being in the orphanage was like, and now my questioning of being in the Royal Guard.

"I just…" I said as I neared the end of my confession. "I guess I just want his life to mean something, and maybe doing what he couldn't do could then maybe help that…?"

"Conli, let me ask you this," Murphy directed. "You love your brother and he you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Would he ever lead you wrong?"

"Not intentionally…"

"Ah, answer 'yes' or 'no'," Murphy commanded.

"No," I replied.

"Do you love your comrades, specifically this Ron fellow?"

"Uh, I don't hate him?"

"Good enough answer," Murphy waved his wrist as he surged on his interrogation. "Would _he_ ever lead you wrong?"

I paused, unsure. Ron was a bit more rebellious than the other guards. He did pick on me and tease me and was the one to plant these doubts in my head.

Murphy, taking my hesitation as an answer, continued, "So, then, Conli, I ask of you, do you honestly think that the man your brother was, who dedicate his whole life to this occupation, an occupation he knew you wanted to take part of, and him have any doubts of it not being honorable or just or worthy of his service and life?"

I opened my mouth once more to respond, the words, though, not quite formed to what I wanted to say or how to even respond.

"I don't need the answer, Conli, _you_ do," Murphy remarked. "And you know it, too."

I stood to leave and nodded my thanks to him.

"I'd walk you to the door, but my age has stiffened my ruined joints, sadly." His words halted me before I could leave the orbit of his desk.

I decided to humor him with his jump of discussion. "Ruined joints?"

"Happens when you protect something worth fighting for, Conli."

"Was it worth it?" I asked with interest. "I mean, you obviously had to give a lot for it."

"I wanted the space after my letters to reflect what I value," he stated with confidence. "Taking the hit for someone else showed that. And besides, being crippled doesn't define who I am anyway. There are too many other things I want to fill the after-letter space with for limitations to have a place."

Murphy's words were paralleling perfectly with Bryon's advice and Nathan's lessons –all contradicting Ron. I suddenly felt foolish for allowing Ron's petty words to influence me so. Chagrin sated my being at how easily I was swayed. Never again, I vowed silently.

Then, Bryon's figure slowly formed at the end of the hall. He was leaving his shift. How long did Murphy and I talk? I ignored the possibility of me being late to my night shift; I had to talk to Bryon. I shouted his name and dashed to the older guardsman.

"Yes?" Bryon asked slightly amused at my lack of breath and anxiety.

"I want to be a guardsmen!"

"Uh, okay," he said with surprise and concern. "Why?"

"Because my father and Nathan were before me. They served a kingdom of honor, and I want to uphold my family's name for it brings me no shame to be associated with them. But had they not been in the Royal Guard, I want to do what's right and fill the spaces after my name with more than the labels that I've allowed to hold me back. I want to be someone the Crown would be proud to have serve them, to be someone Nathan would want to have in his unit, and to protect what's someone's everything -what they value because no one should lose someone who they love."

"You got all of that from my pep talk?" Bryon asked in disbelief.

"No, well, yes, well, parts," I answered in a flustered manner. "But also from the librarian who doesn't let his family or injuries define him, but who sacrificed for what's worth it and now his name is so much more than letters."

Bryon nodded, slightly confused still, I could tell, but he understood that I was a guard not because I felt I had to be for Nathan or because it was just another job, but I was here because I wanted to be.

He then mentioned something along the lines of food, which I eagerly agreed to join him in on once I saw I had a while until my shift officially started.

Just before I completely left the hall to turn into the adjacent hallway, I had the feeling of being watched. I glanced behind me only to see nothing. Figuring I was paranoid or it was another guard, I continued on but then caught the slight movement of the curtain near a secret passage used by the Royals and guards sometimes. The drapes separated just enough for me to find a glimpse of my onlooker. I smiled when I saw the reddish hair and was strangely glad that Murphy's auburn hair looked younger in the daylight than it did in the darker library.


	7. One of Us

**Author's Note:** What a [courageous] champion you are for sticking with me and continuing on with this FanFic! Before we venture on with this chapter, a few shout outs are in need of addressing.

**Lone wolf aka Black Hawk:** Thank you SO MUCH for your follows and favorites on my story AND my profile. Literally, it brought me to joyful tears.

**DoomgirlForever:** Wow! FOUR REVIEWS?! You knew my birthday is coming up, didn't you? Thank you so much for your thoughts and predictions. Maybe they'll come true…? ;)

**IceQueenandFireQueen:** Thank you so much for your SIX reviews! Your kind words are most appreciated and I'm glad you enjoy this perspective. Hopefully, I'm doing it justice. Yeah, the age thing I should have looked into more before writing.

**Side note: **For this FanFic, I am taking artistic license and making Eugene/Flynn be 21ish when Rapunzel is 18/the movie timeline.

* * *

"Conli, you're leaving," Gainey gruffly stated when I entered his office after receiving notice that the Captain required an audience with me.

"Excuse me, Sir?" I asked utterly baffled. I knew it was disrespectful to question your authority when it comes to the Guard, but this I felt was validated.

"Oh," Gainey shook his head slightly as if he suddenly remembered or realized something vague. "Leaving the night shift position. Tim's been back for a few weeks now, and we need you elsewhere anyway."

"Where are you stationing me now, Sir?" I asked once my heart rate reached a reasonable beat.

"Helping with the book work until the end of this year," Gainey stated.

"Just five months?" I knew I was reaching my limit of his patience with my questions.

"At the end of the year, our prized mare is due to give birth, and I know what the doctor has said, Conli, but we need you to help out there. Not just with the delivery, but the training and upbringing of the stead," Gainey spoke as if this was a confession. "And," he sighed almost in pain, "you're the… best we have when dealing with the stables."

Even though the stables were filled with bitter memories of sneezing, allergies, and plain being sick for four years solid, the way Gainey was presenting this made me smile.

"Well, best even though it makes you sick, but maybe there's some way to-"

"Sir," I interjected before he could continue the obviously uncomfortable ramble. "I'd be honored to work in the stables. I request, though, that the training of the horse sparingly and I have duties elsewhere as well."

"Hence the book work," Gainey deadpanned. For a guy in such great need of a specific person to fulfill a duty, he sure showed gratitude oddly.

My next few months soon fell into a routine and followed a similar pattern: book keeping, filing, odds and ends of secretary-type work, and checking on the horse-mother. She was a beautiful creature that resembled my beloved childhood mare, Sunlight, except this mare, Cosmic, was a purebred, taller, and much more fit and nourished than the petty town livery's stock. Being around the animals wasn't so bad if I wisely slotted my time and left once I felt sick. All things considered, I was excited to see her baby and the wonders it'd contribute in the years to come.

Finally, the day arrived for the little fowl to make its entrance into Corona. I assisted the stable master and a magnificent, healthy colt was the fruit of the labor. Knowing the king and queen would come to name the animal soon and that he was in good hands with the stable master, I respectfully bowed out once the excitement settled some.

A few days later, I slipped outside the barracks with the intention of visiting the newest addition in the Royal Corral. Intentionally, I entered the stables quietly in case Cosmic or the colt were resting, but I was quite surprised at what I stumbled upon instead. There, in the pen was Cosmic overseeing the colt nuzzling Gainey.

"I've never had a pet," Gainey said suddenly. I assumed this meant he knew of my presence. "And I would never want to claim a royal's animal as my personal pet, but I do believe in attachments to creatures…. The king said I could name the colt," Gainey's tone turned from dream-like to honored as he mentioned the last portion. He turned from the animals and faced me, his expression unreadable as always, but not as stern as it typically appeared.

"What an honor, Sir," I commentated.

"I've harbored a name for such an animal worthy of the strong title and attachment…" I did notice how the colt seemed to partially love attention from Gainey above any other human. "And believe I've finally met the match. Welcome to the world, Maximus," Gainey said in a soft tone.

My eyes expanded in shock. I forgot how to breathe, how to process anything save the moment in time years ago when Nathan wanted to name a horse in honor of our dad, Maxwell, but with an original twist as well. The name being Maximus

Gainey turned and looked at me with a serious expression as he continued to stroke the colt's mane.

"He will honor Corona with fulfilling obligations and deeds to justice and the law. He shall keep the peace and preserve what Corona stands for. He may just be one," Gainey faced Maximus once more, "but one that makes an impact beyond his years of service."

Tears streaming down my face, my thoughts muddled even more. Through the haze of nostalgia and the naming, I still somehow _knew_ that Gainey's words were reinstating what Nathan's life meant to the Royal Guard and as Maximus's will begin to equal to as well.

A soft chuckle escaped my mouth as I replied with a smile and in a quiet, yet joyful voice, "Welcome to the Royal Guard of Corona, Maximus. You're one of us now."

* * *

"Maximus is just a month old and already a prodigy," I beamed to Bryon as I entered the office I've been using for paper work. Bryon has been helping me since I can't do it full time with training Maximus. It's worked out great to do both, though, actually. My allergies haven't hit me as hard since I've been in the stables sparingly.

"You know," Bryon mused looking over some reports of Corona -not sparing me an upward glance. "These smaller crimes… common misdemeanors, break-ins in abandoned parts of town, a stolen thing or two, all have the same descriptions of the same law breaker."

"The same law breaker?" I asked, leaning over to glance over the papers too.

"Well," Bryon hesitated as he stared warily at the image description. "Law-break_ers_."

"'-Er's?" I ill grammatically questioned.

"Yeah, a pair of 'em. Look," he handed me the steadily increasing file.

"Robberies, theft, a few injuries, threats, hmmm," I mused as I scanned it over. "These guys are busy, for sure, but they haven't done too much damage, _yet_."

"I'm not so sure about that…" Bryon muttered as he shifted his eyesight to a paper deeper in the file. I was about to reach for what looked like the type of paper Corona uses to print public service announcements on and post about the kingdom, when the doors abruptly burst open. An outraged Gainey entered before I could examine the documents more or question Bryon further.

"Hand me the files concerning those two ruffians," the Captain demanded. Neither Bryon nor I questioned whom he was implying. Gainey snatched the papers we handed him. He briefly but thoroughly examined them whilst continuing to compare them to the paper he brought in with him; his grimaced face deepened with each moment spent scanning the documents. Suddenly, Gainey let out a frustrated yell as he kicked over an empty chair.

"S-sir?" Bryon questioned once Gainey took a moment to breath in some air to allow his face to de-pink.

"The two brothers who have been doing common thief work, average no-brain criminal jobs, _those_ guys?" Gainey seethed. We both nod in response. "They sent this." He angrily slid the paper he held previously onto the table. Bryon and I dove to get a glimpse of the wrinkled note on cheap paper.

There was a lone scribbled line:

_Thanks for the trip to Corona's beaches! _

_-SB_

"SB?" I asked.

"Stabbington Brothers, or so they call themselves," Gainey grumbled in explanation. "They're been causing small annoyances for a few months now, but we haven't penned down their location or targets yet to catch them."  
"What do they mean by the trip to the beach? Is that their new target for ruckus?" Bryon questioned.

"Oh, no," Gainey continued to rant. "The beach is where they came from, our outposts there confirm sightings of two tall thug-like males who resemble each other and cause a bit of a stir wherever they went. My guards from there report these two popping up at the start of the month and haven't seen them for a few days now. They just got back from a vacation that we stupidly paid for at one of the eastern tropical islands!" Gainey exclaimed. Bryon and I stood quietly, still in confusion. Gainey let out a sigh and pulled something small out of a bag.

"Attached," Gainey continued to explain, "to the note was this." He thrust forward a chain, or necklace more like it. Upon it rested a small pendant. The Spring Pearl: an oval pearl possessing a light green sheen to it. It was very rare as a color, but only one piece of jewelry has the pearls in oval form and the one person who owns it was...

"So, they have a matching set to the queen's necklace?" I attempted to finish.

"There are no other pearls _for_ it to match," Gainey shouted. "The Spring Pearl necklace is the queen's favorite necklace; she made sure to have it be the only one made in this color and pearl shape. _This_-" he shook his fist holding the lone pearl for emphasis "-is from the queen's personal set! Meaning –"

"They pawned off the necklace's strand of pearls, and sent us back one to let us know they stole from the royals," Bryon breathed.

"And not just that," I said as I realized the severity of the situation. "They stole the queen's favorite necklace –weeks ago- without any one noticing."

"I think these boys are in need of a wanted poster," Bryon commented after a few moments of shocked silence landed on us.

"There should be some in the file. We haven't hung them up yet, because…" Gainey lamely began.

"They didn't seem a threat," Bryon finished. Gainey nodded in confirmation. I walked over to the scattered papers on the table and finally found some wanted posters. Immediately, I did a double take. No, a triple take. I stared for a solid two minutes trying to process how this was possible.

"This is the quietest I've ever seen you, Conli," remarked Bryon with a jesting tone.

"And quite possibly the most shocked," I mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Gainey asked.

"I think I know how they did it… how the Stabbington Brothers stole from the royals," I rambled.

"What do you mean?" Gainey repeated in a louder tone.

"One of the brothers, i-is," I couldn't finish. Gainey snatched the paper and made the same connection I was processing.

"Is Ron."

"Was one of us," I whispered.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed this chapter of new beginnings for the Conli-Gainey plot, Conli embracing new guard duties, and for our favorite stallion hero. Heads up: I am NOT a horse expert, so I apologize if I use terms incorrectly. I did, however, talk to one of my besties who loves horses and asked her about ages and when one should start training them. So, I did my best to try to keep Maximus at an age that would have him physically able to and capable of being born in this timeline and have it fit into the actual Tangled plot of being apart of the Royal Guards.


	8. What That Moment Would Be Like

**Author's Note:** I am quite sorry for the gap between the previous update, but you are now reading the written work of a 20 year old who is just as -if not more- obsessed with Disney than she was as a tot. But thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter. The second part of the chapter faintly describes the scene which prompted the whole idea of this FanFic; I'm so excited for this to be [soon] lining up with the movie's plot! Please enjoy!

* * *

"It's absolutely ridiculous that these two miscreants have been causing enough trouble for us to watch for them, but hidden enough so we can't catch them for months now," Gainey mumbled after a long period of silence. It was odd, kind of, that this was the topic he and I always fell to when the quiet between us got awkward.

"I know that it's been a while, but have we ever figured out who they sold the Queen's pearls to? Everybody in Corona knows that they were hers," I asked him. The door opened and we both stood up anxiously. Bryon entered and we glumly sat back down. He muttered a quick apology for giving us false hope. I waved it off.

"Not everyone is as bright as you're giving them credit for, Conli," Gainey griped once Bryon settled in a chair as well. "But these two are. Above the standard criminal line of intelligence, actually." He huffed outward in frustration.

"And the fact that half of the ruffian duo used to be a guardsmen and knows all the ins and abouts of the kingdom, let alone palace, probably doesn't add to the 'helping' category of tracking them down…" my rambling abruptly ceased when I saw the glare Gainey shot me with.

"Neither is that statement, Conli," Bryon whispered.

Silence engulfed the stuffy room once more. My foot began to bounce up and down with anxiety.

"How's the training with Maximus coming along, Conli?" Bryon asked, breaking the awkward quiet.

"Better than expected," I beamed. "He's been steadily growing these past 18 months. I expect he should be officially joining the Corona Calvary months earlier than the typical age of a horse joining."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Gainey shift and cross his arms over his chest. The obvious act of the Captain trying to appear not listening to the conversation about Maximus was entertaining –everyone knew he and Maximus had a special bond.

He never has spoken of the mending moment in the stables when he named the stallion, but it did begin to shift our dynamic. Of course, he was still short-tempered and often loses his patience with me, but I'm quick to give him my opinion and do things my own way in retaliation. It wasn't a friendship, but it wasn't anywhere near foes either. Secretly, I hoped that it'd eventually pass into kinship or brotherhood as it has with Bryon, but I'd take whatever decency he had to throw at me.

"And you hay allergies?" Bryon continued. Leave it to Bryon to try to keep the energy moving during trying times.

"Ah, well, worse than expected," I joked. "It's not too horrible. I don't feel the best after a long session in the stables, and I still sneeze when around hay. Dr. Mertens says I shouldn't go near the corral –he doesn't agree with my training of Maximus- but it's what needs to be done."

"Speaking of what needs to be done," Gainey murmured. "How much longer?"

"You can't expect him to have it all together," Bryon said in defense. The door to the quaint area suddenly slammed open and an exhausted Tim entered.

"Well?!" Gainey asked, veins standing out in stress. I stood from my chair, but was still just as fidgety. Bryon held his peace in the corner with tight arms folded over himself –this could appear stern or him hoping to comfort himself, I mused.

"It's a girl," he breathed with a record-breaking grin. "I'm a father." A chorus of congratulations rounded between the trio and Tim heartily accepted the good-natured back slaps. "She's fine, she's fine, my Sophia Anne," Tim answered when we asked how his bride of two years was doing. "They're both doing well now. Would you like to come meet my daughter?"

Ungracefully in our heavy boots, we hastily trooped out of the room and across the barracks to the small homes the Royal Guard provides for families. We tried to enter the house quietly, but asking four grown men to do so would be a miracle in and of itself. Thankfully, our ruckus didn't disturb the sleeping babe or the resting mother. We anxiously crowded around the quaint bassinette holding the precious girl, and stared in awe at the small bundle. Pride was pooling in Tim's eyes as he made little sounds to the girl.

A door opened and closed with minimal noise and another guard entered: Kiel.

"What's her name, mate?" Kiel, Tim's partner for the nighttime crown guard duty ever since Ron left and I was reassigned to bookwork, asked. Kiel had just gotten off shift and looked tired but happy to be here for Tim –as we all were.

"Delaney. Delaney Anne Stein," Tim answered with a smile as he placed his large hand into the small girl's grasp; it took her whole fist to hold on to his finger.

We left soon after, leaving Tim, Sophia Anne, and the newest addition to Corona, Delaney, to rest, recuperate, and be a beautiful family together.

* * *

Once again, with Tim being gone for a few weeks due to the new baby, I was able to serve as the temporary replacement. I nearly felt bad having him return. This time, however, not because I lost that job again, but because it meant he had to be apart from his two favorite girls.

My sleeping schedule was out of whack now that I had to go back to working days, so I was up when Tim's shift was up. He and Kiel were quietly walking down the hall and were both startled to see me restlessly perching in the break room near the barracks.

Tim's face broke into a beaming grin. Kiel, realizing whatever was about to happen, groaned and walked over to the coffee bar in the room.

"Conli, do I have a story for you," he began. Tim then launched into a –I admit- cute, but boorishly long story of something quirky Delaney did. In the background, I swear Kiel was able to mouth the tale word for word. Poor guy.

"Tim, you need to work on your story-telling skills," Kiel chipped in once Tim finished. Seeing the shock on Tim's face, I couldn't suppress a chuckle that seemed to echo through the break room and empty halls.

"What do you mean by that?" Tim asked defensively. His baffled expression only fueling my spurts of chortling.

"I'm just saying, I myself have three kids and am able to tell a story about all of my lads and lass in the time it takes for you to talk about one Delaney tale."

"Whatever," muttered Tim.

Kiel turned from making coffee and asked me, "Can't sleep, lad?"

"You're telling me," mumbled a new voice. In entered a tired Bryon. "Someone's having a good ol' time in here and wanted me to know," Bryon sarcastically said in a sleepy tone.

"I woke you? Sorry, Bryon," I muttered, slightly embarrassed. He waved off the apology and joined Kiel at the station for coffee. I turned back to answer Kiel's question, "My hours are all jumbled now," I answered with an annoyed huff.

"My _life_ is all jumbled now," responded Tim as he pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards –hands resting on the back.

"Having a new baby will do that to ya," Kiel said as he poured some coffee into a large cup.

"Mhmm," Tim agreed, his gaze gaining a distance, glazed-over appearance as a combination of exhaustion and thinking of a certain little brown-eyed baby girl.

"Let's go up to the roof," I suggested. Kiel glanced at his watch, Bryon refilled his mug for himself and Tim before they all three nodded, and followed me out of the break room.

As cliché, or even girly, as it sounded, a favorite pastime was relaxing on the roof of the barracks. With the craziness of being on the clock, dealing with citizens, and having to be alert even when your schedule ends, attempting to unwind from a long shift is much more appealing with gazing at the Corona sky rather than in a cramped barrack space or the loud break room.

At this hour, with the sun not yet awake, the stars just beginning to fade, gives one some time to think. Tim continued his statement of life being jumbled after we all reached the roof and laid out looking up at the vault of navy, "And it's not just that… my priorities have moved, my goals changed, and my perspective has shifted."

"How's all that accomplished?" Bryon asked, rotating his long arms to support his head in a cradle-like fashion.

"Having two lives depending on you for survival makes one think," Tim replied. A comfortable silence enveloped us four as the town's clock struck once alerting us that it was the bottom of the hour - 4:30 a.m. The glistening stars of midnight were fading into the pre-dawn's ink; few stirrings happened below in town, perhaps a stray animal or early riser rustling about. In a hardly audible tone, Tim sighed and whispered, "I don't know how they do it."

"Who?" Bryon questioned.

"And what?" I added, turning my head to watch Tim. His eyes were focused on some distant point in the above.

"The king and queen," answered Tim. "I don't know how they make it without their little girl..." he clenched his eyes shut as if even speaking of that pained him, which it did, honestly. It pained us all to see our beloved Royals daughterless. "What it must be like day after day going through the duties and obligations a royal must accomplish, and not have that beautiful, little princess –one who you've dreamt about for _years_- be at your side…" His compassion and emotion in his voice reflected his love and devotion for his own little princess.

"Do you think she's out there?" I whispered after a few beats of nature filled our ears.

"I don't know," Tim answered.

Bryon replied in a hopeful tone, "I'd like to think so, because the king and queen are that: royals. But they're also parents. And a parent wants their kid to be safe, happy, and healthy."

"And they of all people deserve to have her back," Kiel piped in.

"What do you think it'd be like to have her back?" I asked, popping up on my elbow to gaze over my comrades.

"Heh, _louder_ -that's for sure," Tim jested, very likely reflecting upon his own busy girl.

"Not as loud as the celebration for her return, though, that's for sure," Bryon s speculated.

"Yeah, or the person telling them that she's back. That'd be an uproar," Kiel continued. I snapped upward at Kiel's comment.

"Guys," I breathed. Three pairs of eyes focused on me, but I hardly noticed as I fantasized a scene in my head. "Can you imagine, could you possibly even _fathom_, what it would be like to be the guard alerting the king and queen that their Lost Princess has returned?" My question halted all other thoughts from entering their minds; I could tell by the way they were processing my idea. "It would be…"

"Joyous," said Kiel.

"Redemptive," Bryon nodded.

"Loud," joked Tim.

"A miracle," I breathed.

"I'd say 'Your Majesties, I, as a father, know what it is to love a little girl now. Today, may you hug yours once again!' and I'd open up the doors and present the Lost Princes to the king and queen," Tim fantasized.

"No, no," argued Kiel. "I'd go 'A humble guard like me would like to give you a gift.' Parenthood is a gift and there's no time like the present," he quipped jest-like.

"I'd want the presentation to reflect who they are," Bryon stated. "'My king and my queen, you are not just rulers of this grand kingdom, but companions to Corona, but above all, you are parents to a little girl, to a lost princess who has finally found her way back to you.'"

"What are you guys doing up here?" suddenly someone asked. All four heads snapped to the source of the voice.

"Morning, Captain," greeted Bryon after we all scrambled to our feet in respect.

"Morning," off-handedly he replied. "Like I asked, what are you guys doing?"

"Uh, imagining what it'd be like when we find the princess and what we'd say to the king and queen that she's returned," I lamely answered. Gainey raised an eyebrow.

"Well, what have you come up with?"

In turn, Tim, Kiel, and Bryon replied with what that had said before Gainey arrived.

"Petty," he stated with a bored expression. Then, he smiled slightly. "I'd just stick with the same words we used when we found the Magical Golden Flower: 'We found it!'" This earned a few chuckles from Bryon, Tim, and Kiel, but it instantly zapped me back over 11 years earlier when Nathan found the flower for the sick queen to save her and the princess.

"Conli?" I shook my head to focus on the present and what was happening. "What would you say?"

"You know… I don't really know…" I said. But, somehow, I knew that none of their words quite covered what that moment was to be like.

The five of us perched on the roof until the sun threatened to peak over the sea's edge on the horizon. Tim split for his home, Kiel headed towards his bunkroom, and Bryon wanted to investigate the breakfast scene before his morning shift began. Gainey and I sat in silence for a few moments before he broke it.

"I-I didn't mean for what I caused for you to remember with my words," he stuttered. His words said now confused me. I finally sorted through them, though, and realized he's sorry for mentioning finding the flower.

"It's okay, Captain," I honestly stated. "Of course, I miss him, but that doesn't mean I have to avoid conversations that might involve snapping me to a memory of him either."

Gainey turned to look at me. Really, really look at me.

"You've grown up, Conli," he commented.

"Bryon's helped a lot with that," I said with a smile. "Oh! And Murphy." Gainey allowed a small smile to grace his face.

"What that man has done for this kingdom is irreplaceable," Gainey commented.

"But he's just a librarian…"

"There are more to folks than what meets the eye, Conli," Gainey corrected. "He and your brother, both loyal to Corona and ordinary guards, but both saved the kingdom on different occasions."

With that he muttered some excuse about security checks near the corral, but I knew he wanted to go play with Maximus for a few moments.

Realizing I myself had a few hours before I returned to my book work and with wanting to find out better ways to give away big news –and an excuse to talk to Murphy about how he saved Corona- I ventured my way to the library.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Can any of you guess what Murphy's heroics included? And do you guys know who Delaney is in the movie? :) Please review, thank you so much for reading!


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